The Italian Kid
by allANN
Summary: Stella and Charlie are living in Venice, Italy after the successful robbery of 27 Million of gold. One day Charlie meets a teenage girl, and finds out that she was taught by John Bridger. Join these three characters as they discover things about themselves and become a family.


"Stella? You home?" Charlie yelled into their house. He looked out the window onto the canal below, and saw a boat pull into their dock. He smiled as he watched Stella tie the ropes, and close the gate. He wondered if what she had done that day, came at all close to what he had done. The dock door unlocked, and a tall blonde woman walked in. She smiled, walking over to a chair and plopping down. "Long day?" The man standing by the door asked.

"Charlie, is it possible to have 'long day' when you are self-employed, and live in Venice?"

"Excellent point, sweetling. What did you do today?"

She smiled, wider this time, "You only ever ask that question when you have something you want to tell me." She grinned, and continued, "Why do you feel guilty if you don't ask me how my day was? Did your parents never ask you that or something?"

Charlie pretended to be offended, "The only reason my parents never asked me that, is because they choose to remain ignorant of my...job? Occupation?"

"Well, the cat's out of the bag with me, bud. So what did you do today, that you are dying to tell me about," she said, placing emphasis on the word dying.

"I was stolen from," he smiled.

She looked incredulously at him, "What got stolen?"

"My watch and my high school ring."

"And you're not mad because...?" Stella was really confused.

"She's brilliant. How could I possibly be mad, after a piece of genius like that?"

"She? Who is this girl?" Stella asked, a little defensive. She didn't like how impressed Charlie was with another woman.

"She looks about 17, sweetling. No need to worry, she's no competition to you."

She sighed, a little guiltily, "What'd she do to impress you, Mr. Ocean?" Stella asked jokingly.

"She pickpocketed me. She swiped the ring and watch off my wrist and finger, while shaking my hand," he said staring at his hand as if it were a foreign object.

"Why did you shake her hand?"

"She's a beggar. With perfect English, and an American accent."

"Again, why did you shake her hand?" Stella repeated patiently.

"She was playing the guitar in front of Giuseppe's, and I gave her a few Euros. She stopped to thank me, and shook my hand."

"Huh," Stella said, thinking. It was November, and that meant this girl probably should have been in school. Stella wondered why she wasn't.

It was only two o'clock in the afternoon, so Stella made a suggestion. "Do you want to go figure out who she is? And who taught her that talent?" Neither of them were employed full-time, so they frequently took on little challenges or chased down a stupid qualm that came into their mind.

"Let's go," Charlie smiled, and formally offered his girlfriend his arm.

Stella climbed behind Charlie on his motorcycle, and they zoomed to Giuseppe's, their neighborhood market. Charlie parked about a block away, so as to avoid any unwanted attention. The couple walked hand in hand towards the market, and, sure enough, sitting outside was a girl. She was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She had tanned skin, and a light smattering of freckles across her nose. She was wearing a pair of loose blue jeans, that looked like they had been handed down for generations, and a large men's flannel shirt, that hid her any curves she may have possessed. She was pretty, and probably beautiful when she cleaned up, but it looked like she was trying to hide her looks.

As Stella processed all of this, she and Charlie stopped a few feet away from the girl, and listened. The girl was talented, there was no doubt about that. After she finished the song she was playing, Charlie began to talk.

"My name's Charlie, and this is my girlfriend, Stella," Charlie began, using their real names.

"We met this morning," the girl replied. Her voice sounded almost exactly like Stella's, although she had an almost imperceptible lilt to it.

"You took my watch and ring," Charlie continued. A flicker of fear crossed the girl's face, but she quickly composed herself. "You can keep them, you look like you need them more than I do, but I'm curious about you. That swipe took real talent, and an excellent teacher. I was in the business too, and so was she, and her dad," Charlie said, making the universal thieves sign with his hands. "Have coffee with us, at Giuseppe's? It's on us," Charlie finished.

The girl took a couple seconds to respond, and then decided to trust the sign. The universal signal was only passed on once a mentor had decided his student would never abuse the sign, and so it was normally trustworthy. "Alright, it's on you right?" The girl shrugged, and followed Stella into the cafe.

They sat at a quiet corner table, in the bakery side of the market. "Do you want anything?" Stella asked.

"I'll have a chocolate croissant," she answered.

Two minutes later, Stella sat down, handed the croissant to the girl, and put three coffees on the table.

"So what's your name, first of all?" Charlie asked.

"My name's Evan. I'm almost 16 years old. Who're you guys?"

"My name's Stella, and this is Charlie. He's a thief, retired though, and I run a lock business," Stella answered for both of them.

"So why'd you invite me to coffee? Unless you're just welcoming me to the neighborhood..." Evan trailed off, half smiling.

"I'm curious. I listen to my gut, and it says you're important. Who's your teacher?" Charlie asked.

"When I was 8 years old, an American man came up to me, much the same way you two did. Anyways, long story short, in six months he taught me everything I know. I've just been honing what he taught me since," Evan answered, frankly.

"Where are your parents?" Stella asked.

"Dead, they died when I was born. I was left on the step of an orphanage with a note."

"Why'd you run away from the orphanage?" Charlie questioned.

"I didn't get enough food. It was boring. They were mean, I could go on," Evan shrugged, as if running away was the most normal thing in the world.

"Okay, so this man. What was his name?" Charlie was intensely curious because about 8 years ago, was when his team had moved to Italy for eight months to complete the Italian Job.

"He told me his name was John Bridger," Evan answered, not knowing how much her words would shock the listeners.

"My dad," Stella said softly.

"Your dad?" Evan questioned.

"Was he tall, with white hair? And an mustache? And a mischievous grin?" Stella asked, smiling at the memory.

"Yeah," Evan said, stunned.

"Evan, do you want to meet us here again tomorrow? At around 11 am? We can keep talking," Charlie knew the girl probably didn't trust anyone, but he intended to gain her trust because John had taught her. John didn't take on a student lightly, he only took the best people. The most talented, the kindest, the best. Evan must have been one of them, even at eight years old.

"Okay, I'll see you then," Evan said, picking up her guitar case, and briskly walking out the door.

"Well that was unexpected," Stella said to a contemplating Charlie.

"Yeah, seriously. Stella, she needs help. She's trying, but she's to skinny. And she's never had a mom or dad, she's probably never ha a friend," Charlie spewed, sad for the girl.

"I agree. I know the kind of people my dad taught. They were only the best. We'll help her. Don't worry Charlie."


End file.
